I’ve known her since college — not my closest friend, but someone I always looked out for. She’d been through tough times, and I’d helped in small ways before: a place to stay, a little money when she needed it. So when we met up recently and she told me she hadn’t eaten in days, I didn’t even think twice. I packed a tote with homemade meals from my freezer — soups, pasta, stir-fry — and planned to drop it off after work.

But just before I left, I opened Instagram and saw something that made me freeze. She had posted a picture of a brand-new tattoo — not a throwback, not a repost — fresh ink. My first reaction was confusion. Had someone gifted it to her? Was it a trade? But it didn’t sit right. I messaged her gently, asking if she still needed the food, mentioning I’d seen the post. I didn’t accuse her of anything — I just wanted to understand.

What I got in return was pure fury. She accused me of judging her, said I looked down on her, and that she’d “always find money for ink.” Then came the insults — sharp, personal, totally uncalled for. I didn’t respond. I quietly put the food back in the freezer and sat down, stunned. I didn’t know what hurt more — the possibility she’d lied or the way she exploded when I asked a simple question.

That moment made me question how often kindness gets mistaken for obligation. I still don’t know if she was ever truly in need, or just craving attention. But now I know I need clearer boundaries. Some friendships aren’t built to last — especially the ones where your help becomes expected, not appreciated.